Situations
by JezebelDelilah
Summary: Rosto is trying to forget her. Beka is trying to feel. Dull, I know, but I promise it isn't terrible. BekaXRosto. Rated for adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**For those of you who have read my previous Beka Rosto story, you will find something a little different here. I view Kissed more as a happy, slightly depressing story. When I started writing this one, I was in a depressed mood. It's alright, I'm fine now. But now, I can't let go of this story. It's just... I think I'm in love with it. I like the way I have this planned out. Make sure you review. They are love!  
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**This being the first publication, on a fanfiction site, it is not in a book. Using this to say that I obviously haven't been published anywhere. It is safe to assume from this that I am not making bunches and oodles of stories. Which means I am most definitely not Tamora Pierce and I am only using her characters.. And setting. Ish.**

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He kissed the girl lightly, then pulled away. Every time she came to kiss him, he would let her soft lips barely touch his, then he would pull his head away. It was a teasing dance of lips that was exciting, if not fulfilling. She was starting to groan in frustration, her breath deep and husky. It excited him but made him think of other things. Another woman. He didn't want to think about those things, that was why he was doing this. He kissed her full on, all his tangled emotions pushed into it, making it something that he didn't want to end. It was as if he were feeding himself on this woman's lips. Could it take away his pain?

Her hand moved to his, then moved it to her thighs. Rosto's eyes were focused on what she was doing, trying to think it was someone else. He couldn't look her in the eyes and still do this. It would tear him apart. It would do things to him that neither of them would be satisfied with. His body was already showing signs, but she distracted him. Finally, the magic happened and he was forgetting. The frustration and doubt were ripped from his body as it gave way to numbness. It was all gone but the steady movement of his body and the rhythm of his heart. The sounds that she made were pushed to the back of his head, he didn't think about anything but himself. Anything and everything was going through his head, except for _her, _the woman he was trying to forget.

It ended with a drawn out moan and shuttering gaps. Rosto rolled to his back, lying next to her as he fought to keep the glow. He wanted to keep the thing that would make it better, an anesthetic for his sorrow. Sweat pooled in every surface available, including the mattress beneath them. She calmed first, her breathing normal and the glisten leaving her body. Her hair was still sweat-darkened and stuck to her forehead. It was a good thing, something all her own. Something that didn't remind him of _her_. She said nothing as his body recuperated, the sound of his pulse in his ears fading from a fast, wet drum to nothing.

The woman next to him made no move to hold him, no move to touch him. Even she knew that this was nothing but a trip to the healers to him, just a way to get away from his torture. Rosto had felt bad about it, the first time. She had come to accept it, and even convinced him to. They didn't speak, no words to speed the pulse were uttered. They both knew that they were less likely to leave a wound if nothing was said. Instead, it was a hidden thing, almost dirty in its meaning and happenings.

After a while, she curled up on her side, her back to him, the blanket pulled up to hide her from prying eyes. He lay for a little longer before his stomach protested its empty state. Hunger was digging at him, his stomach burning and his throat acidic tasting. It finally drove him up and into his breeches and tunic. He grabbed his boots and left the room, slipping down the stairs without a backward glance.

Stooping to pull on his boots, he was careful not to make much noise, he did not want to wake the sleeping occupants in the house. He left, making his way to his home. When he got there, he removed his boots once again and entered, making his way to his own room. There, he lay on his bed quietly, thinking about minor things in an attempt to push off the things he had fought not to think about. His bed wasn't as comfortable as the woman's was, but it worked for him. He wasn't in his bed as often as he was in hers. He peeled his clothes back off of his body and fell back onto his bed. The bed dipped in to cradle his body, something that he enjoyed. Sleep was a long way off. Instead, he was forced to surrender to his fears and then live through them in his dreams.

Rosto didn't enjoy finding solace with the woman. _She _was who he wanted to be with. And if she would let him, things would be better. He wouldn't need anyone else. Everything in the world would be his, if she would be. If she said yes, his heart would leap out of his chest and dance a jig, he swore it. But instead, she chose someone else. A dark man with proud eyes. He dwarfed her in every way. It even seemed that his voice was bigger than hers.

Rosto swore and tossed around on his bed, hoping to persuade sleep to come just a little sooner. Instead, his mind thought of tangled bodies. Slick skin sliding against more slick skin. Moving in shadows with groans and screams accentuating every movement. A scream filled his throat, swiftly swallowed before he brought someone to his rooms. It was not a state he wanted anyone to see him in. He knew that his eyes were purple underneath, his pale skin making them look bruised. His scar stuck out, a vicious red mark against his cheek, a mark of his standing.

His stomach growled again, this time making his abdomen cramp and a gasp escape his lips. A growl followed it, as his hand clenched tight, his knuckles turning white. Anger flooded his body, an emotion that he found hard to swallow. His fist rose in the air, still white knuckled and paler than usual. It came down and collided with his stomach, making him grunt in pain and satisfaction. It would learn now, do not bother him with petty interests of its own.

Because he was so angry, because it seemed to fall from his pores in his sweat and tears, he let it take control of him. He didn't see harm in it, if he let it out, maybe it wouldn't try to take him over in other situations. It collided with his body over and over again, striking legs and stomach and chest without bias. He was angry that she didn't want him, angry that he wanted her. Angry that no matter what he did, he couldn't get her out of his mind. She was like a poison, spreading herself all through his body by way of his veins.

Eventually, his body shook with pain and grief. He unclenched his fist and held it to his face, sitting up to let his body curl the way it wanted to. He screamed silently, running his hands through his hair over and over, finally stopping to pull on it. The pain didn't bring him back the way it should.

The hand pulling on his hair tightened once more and fell, hard, on his leg. This pain felt better, normal. It was going to bruise, a purple mark for him to see when he woke. It was hot, and then it cooled, making him wonder if it would bleed. A numb inspection revealed nothing but a red spot. He hit it again, just to make sure, then fell back on his bed. He rolled onto his side, pulling his legs up close and putting his arms around them. Then, he snuggled his face into his knees, trying to stop something that he didn't know how to deal with. It hadn't happened in a long time, never that he could remember.

A tear fell down the side of his face, soaking into his dull blond hair.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, that sure did take forever, didn't it? It was because I decided to take three honors classes this year, and an extra hard one with it. Oh, and I have another one that demand entirely too much from me. I don't mean to complain, but here we go. We should really start talking about the story, huh? I think that now would be a good time to mention that this is ever so slightly AU. There are just a few things that are different, nothing big. Just ... oh, well, you'll see, won't you? Of course, because you guys are soon to be addicted to this story. You didn't notice, did you? I infused crack into this story. As you read, it moves from the words and into your eyeballs. Soon, all of you will be reading my stories and begging for more. Not just because they are truly superb stories, but also because you are addicted to crack! And all of you are good people, you don't know where to get crack, so the only source you have of it is my stories.**

Now, there's hooking an audience.

Sweet Sassy Sarah: I was awfully depressed, I said that. It was just a really sucky day that day... Alls well now, though. Except for the disgusting cough...

Kyprish Prophetess: _Funny, when I read your name I want to say princess. Anywhoot, there is definitely going to be more, just at a much more sedate pace than _Kissed_ started out._

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Beka woke, her body aching, to the sound of knocking on her door. Getting out of bed made her thighs scream in protest. She was groggy from too little sleep. The only good thing about last night was that her late night lover had left before dawn. When she finally made it to her door and opened it, a tall blond woman walked in, dragging along one of Beka's friends from puppy training. Aniki looked at her and smiled. "You look like scummer." It had never been Aniki's way to be polite, she was blunt, just like Beka was. Beka couldn't say that she hadn't earned it. She had woken up for breakfast with a group of people that were far too chatty in the morning. Then, she had gone to do an hours worth of training with Ahuda before her rounds with Goodwin and Tunstall. Then, she had come home to her lover on her bed, and had stayed up far too late canoodling. The memory of how little sleep she had gotten made her whimper in the back of her throat.

She scowled at the girl as she made her tender legs carry her to grab the cups and plates they would need. As the size of the group was never constant, she had gotten into the habit of grabbing all her things, just in case that many people showed up. Aniki and Phelan, Kora and Ersken, Pounce, Laddybuck, and Fuzzball in a sling all wormed into her room. Rosto didn't show up, but it wasn't surprising. He had stopped coming to breakfast weeks ago. _Fickle cove, _thought Beka with a frown. It happened right around the time another person _started_ coming.

Breakfast was always a fun event, even if it were loud and hyperactive for someone who didn't like getting up in the morning. Today proved no different. They joked and made fun of each other, _fish puppy _being a word they shot around even though the incident had happened months ago. The cats even seemed to laugh with the people, all the while trying to weasel anyone they could out of a piece of cheese, or a bit of meat. They were scavengers, all three of them. Pounce curled up on Beka's pillow, tucking his feet under him and his tail around his bottom. His eyes closed and he purred softly, a sign that he was taking a cat nap. The kittens curled up on their respectful owner's laps, doing their own versions of Pounce's routine. Everyone else was sufficiently full, leaning back or lying down with contented sighs.

A soft knock sounded on her door, making the others look at it. No one rushed to open it, but Beka had not been raised rude, she opened the door politely to a beautiful woman. Her silky black hair was piled on top of her head, looking artfully messy. Big brown eyes looked at her, calm excitement fairly dripping out of them. Ambry never dressed in anything unappealing. Her body was draped in soft white fabric, translucent when not against her dark skin. Her feet were in soft white boots, still pristine even after walking in the city. She really did look like a dancing dove, as most people in the city called her. The thought made Beka grimace in the comfort of her own mind.

"Ambry." A deep voice called from somewhere down the hall. It was followed closely by a man. He was dark, almost black, but with a reddish undertone. His eyes were piercing, always seeming to accuse. In the middle of his face was a slanted nose that stuck out just a bit too far. It reminded Beka of a beak, an exotic birds beak. His hands also lent to the description, the knuckles too large and sharply lined. The way he walked was as a hawk hunting for prey. When he saw Beka, his eyes widened in a smile. For all his menacing looks, he was genuinely happy to see Beka. "Hello. How are you this morning?" He asked her as he folded her small body against his in a hug, quick but efficient.

Beka's mouth twitched into her own smile. She was happy for far different reasons than Col, but happy nonetheless. Col was easy to get along with, and it was something that Beka was happy for. Beka had many friends, but only Rosto and Tunstall were the only men. The latter treated her as a father might, trying to push her and prod her in directions he found favorable. The former … Well, he was another matter entirely. It was nice for Beka to be friends with Col because he didn't want anything from her. She enjoyed talking to him, he seemed to as well. There was nothing sexual between them, and he didn't try to tell her how off she was about her decisions. He gave advice only when she asked for it, not whenever he felt it necessary. _Unlike someone else I know. _"I'm fine this morning, how about you? Were you up late?" She added a wink at that, just to make Col smile.

Ambry blushed, the color going from her cheeks and down into her bodice. A petite throat clearing issued from her throat, inaudible but to Beka and Col. Beka turned her face to the girl, not letting her smile slip at all. She was proud of that fact, not giving into the disgust and anger that had slowly burned in her since the trollop dared move into this house. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You know how it is, though. Col and I are close friends, we tend to talk about things." Beka turned her back and walked into the room, hoping to pick things up before the other two entered. She had left the door open, so they soon followed into the room and took seats at the edge of her bed.

As Beka turned her back to put the still clean plates on a shelf, she scowled. _The puttock has her behind on _my _bed. The stupid wench should really learn to know when she's not wanted. _Before she turned to face them, she pulled on her amiable smile. "You weren't hungry, were you?" She asked them both, even if she didn't want to. The Provost didn't raise her to be rude. "There really wasn't much left from breakfast, but if you are, I'm sure I could scare something up."

Ambry smiled and it almost made Beka slap her. "No, thank you. We already ate." She held Col's hand and smiled at him, unfeigned love shining through. It was sad to Beka that someone as great as Col could be so headlong in love with such a _woman_ as Ambry. But she would always deal with her, out of her deep friendship with Col. He was an admirable man, even if he had been an instrument of destruction in the hands of the woman beside him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This was written a bit quicker than I thought it would be. Obviously, there is no crack in it. Or, maybe there is and I'm the only one affected? I don't know. I hope there aren't too many mistakes, I wrote this quite quickly, all in about an hour. I know it's not a ton, but I like it. I figured it would be good to update now, considering that tomorrow I have to be in the back of a truck for like an hour, to wave at people as I show my extensive Drama Club Pride. Then, I have to wake up at seven AM to watch my one and a half year old nephew, with his nine year old brother, until one PM. Then, I have to get a hold of a friend for my Homecoming dress, and to do my hair. Then, I'll go to a dance. Woot. Anyways. **

DevilishDuck: _I knew that someone was going to be interested in Col. I rather like him, even if I made his looks after a bad guy in Iron Man.. Or, my own twist on him. Hehe. Stay tuned, and all will become clear. _

Lady Knight Jocelyn: _Do you think it's shaping up to be as good as Kissed was?_

Sweet Sassy Sarah: _Beka's late night lover is revealed, here. Very soon, actually. In the third paragraph, but read the other two first. I didn't put them there for my health. _

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Pain woke him up. Not the fatal variety, but a constant dull ache that radiated from his stomach and legs. His eyes felt as if someone had poured dirt into them, red and scratchy. It felt as if his stomach were rotting inside him, soaking his innards with its potent juice. Suddenly, it felt as if his stomach were rolling around and jumping up and down inside him. He vaulted off the bed, throwing his head out the window as his body seemed to compress into itself. In short gasps he couldn't breath, his throat blocked off as his tongue came out. Finally, the seemingly futile gags were fruitful, hot burning acid came out of his mouth. It burned his tongue and made him gasp, only to have more follow. Tears were streaming down his face, he couldn't breath, he couldn't stop being sick.

When it stopped, he sucked a lungful of air in, trying to make up for the recent lack. He wiped his mouth and drank a sip of water, all his stomach would take without protest. His clothes were dirty and wrinkled, but he didn't care. He pulled them on and sprinted out of the house, even as he pulled on his boots. It made his muscles contest the movement, making him slam onto his knee before he made it to the door. The pain didn't clear his mind, only made him more determined to reach his destination. He forced himself up and continued on his mad dash to the house. The house where _she _lived. He ran until he got to the door, then he made sure that she wasn't in. He ran to his lovers door, ducking into the room beside him as he heard those hated voices behind the door. He heard the hated woman and her lover leave, and then silence from the room. After making sure that it was empty but for the one he wanted there, he knocked on the door softly before letting himself in.

She lay on her bed, curled up with her head away from him, much the way he had left her in the night. His head was pounding, even as she used her softest voice. "Stupid cove, don't you know when a mot's had enough?" She asked, turning to look at him. He saw worry flash in her eerily grey eyes before his stomach made him double over in pain. He bit his lip, blood pooling in his mouth before he was forced to swallow it. Rosto's poor, abused knees bore the full weight of him for a moment, before he dropped to his side and curled up. "Rosto!" Beka cried as she ran to his side.

Her blessedly cool hands touched his head, a reprieve from its aching heat. His vision was spotty, almost grey in color where it wasn't completely overaken by black splotches. "When was the last time you ate?" She asked. Her eyes were shiny, but her voice was hard as steel. It was the voice she used when she was worried.

He smiled, blood dripping down his cheek, into his already greasy and tear-stained hair. "A while." He gasped again as his abdomen voiced its opinion at its recent neglect. Blood followed the air, making him cough and curse. It wasn't just hunger pains that were lashing out at him, he could also feel tenderness, all through it. "No." The word escaped his mouth before he could question its intelligence when Beka tried to lift up his shirt.

"And why not?" Beka asked, her hands on her hips and her jaw set stubbornly. She wasn't going to give up without a sarden good fight.

Rosto thought fast. "Can't you see that I am not fit for any canoodling?" He smiled, but he knew that she saw through what he was trying to show. Oddly, the knowledge didn't make him worry.

Beka turned sad. Her hands came up to hug herself and she bit the side of her lip for a moment. "Why do you let her do this?" It was a question that made her wonder just how long he had been beating himself up over it. She had seen the dark mark on his stomach, and she knew how much force a bruise like that required. She had gotten a few herself, albeit not self-inflicted.

He knew that he smelled like vomit and sweat and other things best left unknown. He could see it in the way she was breathing through her mouth and not her nose. The fight went out of him, when he realized she really did want to help. She wanted to help him, even after all the 'helping' he came to her for, in the night, when no one could know. "Why do you care?" It was said calmly, he was almost completely detached. Rosto sat up, bringing his legs up and wrapping his arms around them loosely.

"I care," Beka smiled at him, gently taking his hand and pulling him up. She was strong for someone so small. "Because…" His shirt was pulled gently over his head. She pushed him onto her bed, so he was sitting, then tenderly removed his boots, pulling him up for he breeches and then back down. This time, she pushed him into the spot she generally slept in. "You are worth caring for." A small, sorrowful smile accompanied the words as she grabbed his clothes and brought them to Aniki, saying something about needing them washed. Then, she pulled together a broth for him to drink. "Drink it slow." She sat next to him with a wet rag. "Why wouldn't you eat?"

"It just didn't seem important." He looked at her, holding in small winces as she cleaned his skin and bruises. He didn't want to tell her that it didn't seem worth it. It would hurt her, and he had already done enough of that, he didn't want to add to her catalogue of scars. Finally, he was clean to her satisfaction and she threw the murky water out the window and lay the rag to dry.

She pulled the blanket over his naked body, then lay beside him. She was a foot away, clothed and on the blanket instead of under it, but it felt more intimate to him than any other time he had lain in this bed. Rosto pulled his arms out from under the blanket and set them at his sides, palms up. He was warm from the broth he had drank, but still deathly hungry. Beka, knowing he needed comfort even if he didn't, grabbed his hand. Not another word passed between them as he slowly nodded off to sleep, for once not dreaming of Ambry.

When Rosto woke, Beka was gone on her rounds. She had left a note saying that if he didn't want to be around Ambry, he should leave before breakfast. He found it humorous, because he hadn't been around for breakfast in weeks, he wouldn't start now. His clothes were piled next to Pounce, who yawned at him before crawling into the newly vacated warm spot. As he pulled the clothing on, he felt coin in the pocket. The silly mot had left him money to wash himself. _Or for food. _He smiled, feeling a bit happier than he had in a while, and walked out of the house, keeping his head high, even as he heard a giggle from the room that used to be his.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I know that this has taken forever to post, and I would like to apologize. I had homecoming, forever ago, and it was fun. Except for getting into a fight with my boyfriend. We broke up shortly after. It was kind of depressing, because he broke up with me for another girl. As you can see, this would make it slightly hard to write. But, now I'm dating a very amazing boy, and he has made things better. Also, something very cool happened. I got my tongue and my lip pierced. It goes nicely with my belly button, eyebrow, and three in each ear.** **But onto reviews.**

**Sweet Sassy Sarah****: _I know that I presented it oddly, because I wanted people to be shocked by it. Sadly, I think I didn't do it very well, considering people are still a little confused on it._**

**Kyprish Prophetess****: _Yes, Rosto is in love with Ambry, who is with Col. And yes, he is sleeping with Beka. No, it is not supposed to be the other way. I went with a twist. And he beat himself up, as it is obviously stated in the second chapter. Or the third, I can't remember perfectly. _**

**Sketchy Cannabis****: _Thank you for your compliments. And I'm glad that the drug infused into this writing is more legal than crack. But just as addictive. :]_**

**PS: Sorry this is short. I know what I want to do with it next, but I can't figure out how to say it. I'm hoping that this next bit will be up soon.**

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Beka fell into her bed, exhaustion making her like rubber after her rounds with Goodwin and Tunstall. She had stopped a big man from killing his small wife in a drunken rage. Chasing him into an alley where her partners had been waiting, it had been satisfying to get her anger out in a productive manner. Her muscles still ached from the running she had done, twitching and burning under her clothes. It was a welcomed, deserved feeling. Not long after the pain in her legs left her thoughts, did the pain in her heart enter.

All her life, Beka had been taught that falling in love was supposed to be an amazing feeling, that left you lightheaded with happiness and dizzy with excitement. Instead, the only time she was lightheaded was when she woke up in the morning after a dizzying night of canoodling, her legs hurting and her throat dry. Beka had never been a particularly girlish girl, but she was enough of one to be bitter that she didn't get that type of love. No, only Ambry got that type of love from any man she wanted. Col, Kalton, Shoy, Tayb…

Rosto. The thought made a tear come to her eye.

He had tried his luck with Beka too many times. He must have gotten sick of her always saying no. Eventually, his interests had turned to Ambry. And there they rested, even though she had told him everything that Beka had, more often than she. _Maybe you're only allowed to give up on one person in your life, _Beka thought with a dejected sigh. When he had finally given up chasing her, she had been relieved. Good riddance, that's what she thought.

Until he had shown up, dreamy-eyed and explaining how perfect Ambry was. Her heart had felt like it was being ripped out. So, she had done the only thing she could think to do. She had ignored it, ignored the stabbing pain she felt whenever he was around. Eventually, the pain turned to a burning rage that threatened to consume her when Ambry rejected him.

And then Rosto had come to her in the night, sneaking into her room as a common thief would. And he had stolen something. He had made off into the night with the very purpose of her life. She no longer cared as much about being a Dog and cleaning up the streets. Comforting Rosto had taken over her. She felt hollow when he wasn't in her room, in her bed.

She knew she could do nothing to stop his pain, all she could do was lessen it, one night at a time. But she didn't see that it was doing much. He was getting reckless. He obviously wasn't eating, and he didn't seem to be sleeping. And the bruises he had given himself were not a good sign either. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he give up on Ambry as he had given up on her?

She started to cry, curling up and hugging her knees to herself on her bed. It had been two days since he had shown up after breakfast. And the time was beginning to worry her. Had he done something to get himself killed? It seemed like something he would do, put himself out of his misery by having someone else do it.

He was so selfish. He never once thought of what this could be doing to her. He only knew that she was going to be there for him, do anything for him. He was abusing the privilege. Didn't he think that she deserved something in return? She wanted him to respect her, not to run off at dawn every day, returning after everyone else was sleeping. She was sick of being hidden, like she was a doxie. It was a feeling that made her feel worse every time she thought about it. But would he respect her with the privilege of public knowledge? Of course not, Rosto was Rosto, the Rogue of Tortall. Everyone owed him something, and if he didn't get it, there was going to be hell to pay.

Beka finally fell asleep, angry at Ambry for making Rosto hurt, angry at Rosto for hurting her. And angry at herself for being in love with him, knowing she'd forgive him and give in when next he came to her.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I know that I didn't update there for a while, but I'm hoping that will change. I've been doing better. Not so much writers block and a lot more time. I hope you all haven't lost hope, I promise I'm trying. **

**None of the reviews I got had questions or anything, so I'm not posting anything. I just want to say thank you for complimenting my writing. Also, I know that you want happy endings for the perfect couple, but you'll have to hold out a bit longer. **

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It burned his throat, making it feel raw and abused. It burned and itched as it went down. It was rum. This wasn't his first glass, either. Nor his second or third. He was drunk and belligerent and he wanted to stop being depressed. This wasn't helping, it never did. But he never stopped. All it was doing was sending him into a spiral of self doubt and regret. Like it always did.

What had he been thinking? Why would he think he was good enough for her? Ambry was perfect. She was beautiful and clever and funny. Everything a girl should be. Soft and pliable, not all hard and independent. How could he have ever thought that rough and unrefined Beka was the girl for him, when cultivated and delicate Ambry so obviously was?

But she didn't want him. Because he was ugly and useless, violent and… And drunk. That's what he was. That's why she didn't want him. If he could fix that, everything would be wonderful. She would fall in love with him and never leave him as she did before. He wouldn't have to go to demanding Beka for comfort, because he'd have a perfect girl beside him. He wouldn't have to worry about her leaving him, because she would love him. Like he loved her.

As he finished his jack of rum, he came up with a plan, an excellent plan. He was going to convince Ambry how good he was for her, how he could make everything good for her. That he could be her perfect man, because she was his perfect girl. He ordered another jack and congratulated himself on his brilliance. It was a solid plan, it would work fantastically. She'd love him and he'd be fine. He wouldn't have to drink himself into a stupor ever again.

He drained the jack and stood up, steadying himself with an arm on the table as the world spun around him. Rosto flipped a coin at the barkeep, more than enough to pay for his drink. It landed on the floor and the barkeep grudgingly picked it up. Then, he convinced his uncooperative feet to carry him to the door. It seemed to wobble all over the room, switching walls whenever he got to it, but he found it. Then, he stumbled and shuffled his way up the street, through dizzying allies and topsy-turvy streets, but he made it to the house. He stood in front of the house as he remembered the plan he had made.

The door knob was mocking him, moving all over the door to evade his clumsy hand. When he finally found it, he had to collect his will. All his body wanted to do right now was slump and sleep, it didn't want to go on with his brilliant plan. But Rosto was smarter than his body, and more determined. He finally got it to cooperate enough to open the door. When he blundered into the house, he stubbed his toe on the stairs and tripped. He fell into them with a loud crack, his shins and elbows shrieking in pain.

His vision was spotted black, with bright spots popping into view to boot, but he wasn't sure if it was from drinking or from the darkness enveloping the room. He was betting on the first one, his stomach was gurgling angrily. Rosto managed to get himself to stand up. At the moment, all he wanted was comfort and someplace to lie down. Up the stairs he went, opening a familiar door and falling inside.

It was all he could manage to get himself onto all fours as his drink came out, spewing its liquid fire across the floor. It fell onto the floor with a sick plop and then everything went black. His last thought was that he hoped he wasn't in his vomit.

STARS

Cool, nimble hands traced up his sides, tugging at his clothes and pulling them off. He wasn't sure why the hands were doing it, but he was sure it had something to do with the cold wetness slipping across his front. The smell of bile and rum reached his nose and he grimaced and gagged. Something prodded him into standing, then walked with him to a bed. A breeze reached his nakedness, making the blanket placed on him a blessing. Darkness took over again as a cool rag lay itself over his face.

STARS

Rosto's head was pounding with every beat of his heart, magnifying every sound he heard into something that seemed to scrape his brains right out of his head. "I don't feel well, Aniki. I don't really want breakfast today."

A loud voice answered her, but he couldn't tell what was said. "I don't really want to talk about it." Beka told the voice, nodded and closed the door. It banged, hurting his head and making him wince.

Her eyes were red with purple marks under them. She looked at him, her eyes unreadable and shut down. "You should go back to sleep. You're head is going to hurt sarden bad."

His head did hurt. And this was not where he wanted to be. He wanted to be with Ambry. How did he always end up with Beka when she was so… Imperfect. "Why do you have to be such a mother hen?" Anger left a bitter taste on his tongue after the words left, but he didn't care. He was sick of being told what was best for him. He was a grown man, he wanted to make his own decisions.

Beka just stared at him. Then, her jaw tightened and her eyes seemed to lighten even more, becoming an ice grey that burned right into him. "Maybe if you acted less like a child, I wouldn't have to act like your mother." She started pulling clothes out of no where, his clothes. She was throwing them onto the bed.

"I don't act like a child." His voice was low and full of conviction. Rosto's head was pounding and he just wanted to go back to bed, to sleep off the hangover that was pounding his brain into scummer.

"Really? Is that what you honestly believe?" She looked at him and smiled. It was far from happy, though. "Drinking yourself stupid over a woman who isn't even in love with you? Beating yourself up, literally, because you're angry? Not eating because Ambry is in love with Col? Running to me, who you obviously feel nothing for, because of your feelings for Ambry? Do those seem like very adult things to do?" Beka didn't even try to disguise the anger and hurt in her voice, it was too much to ask at the moment.

And suddenly, her eyes showed all her emotions. Anger, pain, frustration. Heartbreak. "You're so selfish." The last was said at a whisper, but with a force that made Rosto's eyes widen.

Headache forgotten, he lashed back, sitting up and bellowing back at her. "Selfish? Me? What about Ambry? She left me for that stupid man."

All the iron that had been holding her up, flowed out of her. In an instant, she went from strong woman to a puddle of heartbroken girl. _And it goes back to Ambry. _"Do you have any idea what this does to me? I lie there as you pretend I'm someone else, as I slowly start to mean nothing. You aren't my friend, Rosto. You're a thief. You come in the night, take what you want, and leave. Without a thought to anyone but yourself. I mean nothing. Why don't you go and find a doxie? At least then you wouldn't have to pretend to care." The iron was back, she stood tall and looked him in the eye. "I want you to leave. And don't come back."

Rosto pulled on his pants and boots, not even looking at her. Then, he walked to the door. After opening it, he paused, looking back at her. She stood rigid, her back turned to him. He opened his mouth, about to say something.

"Go!" She screamed, not bothering to keep this from the rest of the tenants.

He walked out the door, a sinking feeling in his stomach.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Alright guys, I know that took super uber long. I just hope that no one has lost faith in me. I am trying. I was just going through so much crap it was hard to find the time to write. But, I'm hoping to keep up better from now on. Also, sorry this chapter is so short, but I figured you guys had waited long enough for me to continue. You didn't need me to drag it out longer as I waited for inspiration fairies to find me. **

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**After he pulled himself into his own bed, Rosto thought over what Beka had said. And the way she had acted. She had seemed so broken, and he didn't know why. He had done nothing. When he had first come to her, it was after a last failed attempt for her heart and Ambry's betrayal. He knew it had been clear that it was just so he wouldn't feel so alone, and she had agreed to it. She had agreed. It wasn't his fault the stupid wench looked into it more than she should have. It was her own fault that she was hurt. It wasn't as if he were in love with her. If someone isn't in love with you, give up. It's never going to happen. He didn't know why Beka didn't get that.

He slipped into sleep with anger towards Beka riding his mind.

When he woke in the morning, he'd decided that he was going to go through with his plan from last night. But he was going to wait until Beka was not home, so that he wouldn't have to deal with her. He figured that by now Aniki and Kora would know all about what had happened last night, and he didn't really like it. They were his people, and they were going to her side on this. He didn't need them anyway.

Beka's shift didn't start for another three hours, and he obviously wasn't going to get her to give him any comfort, so he walked down the street in a district reserved for the worst of people. Drunkards and doxies lined the streets, all in different states of coherence.

A pretty girl with red ringlets caught his attention. Or, he assumed they would be ringlets if she washed and combed them. Her pretty freckled face was dirty but decent. Her bodice barely covered her ample bosom, and her skirts were pulled high over her knees.

After arranging for a price and amount of time, he led her to his home. When they got there, she looked at him, her brown eyes staring at him and her head tilted slightly to the side. "Why ye need me for? Ye're pretty 'nuff. Should 'ave the gixie's all o'er ye."

Rosto didn't know why he answered but he did. "The one I want isn't." He sat down and looked at his hands. Now that this doxie was talking to him, he didn't know if this was such a good idea.

"So ye're one 'a them spoiled ones. Ye can't get the best, so ye're wantin' the worst." The doxie scratched her chin. "One is goin' fer ye, yeah?"

Rosto shook his head in frustration. "You're supposed to be a doxie, why are you talking me out of your services?" He didn't like where this was going, he didn't want to think about Ambry or Beka.

"I jess wanna make sure ye know what ye're doing. Ye could be throwing away sumpin good. Jess 'acause it's with ye're second choice, don't mean it can't be great." The doxie looked at him until she saw a look of determination on his face. She left the house, and when Rosto looked to thank her, she was gone.

Thoughts were whirling through his head. Ambry didn't love him, but he was chasing after her. But why? Now that he thought about it, completely and fully, he realized that Ambry was not that great of a woman. She required too much attention, never wanted to be alone, and she always thought less of him for being the Rogue. He didn't love her. How could he fault Beka for wanting him, when he wanted someone that didn't want him?

He had never stopped loving Beka... He realized that now. He had just gotten hurt too many times, he didn't want to give in when things looked good. Rosto was afraid that she would sadistically take it all away from him.

His heart was heavy. Now that he realized that he did, indeed, want Beka, he was terrified. Would Beka want him? He didn't think so, not after her last words to him. But he knew he had to try. He had just realized how much of a fool he was, he had to fix, or at least try.

_Beka, don't give up on me yet, _Rosto thought to himself as he ran out of his door.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry, guys. Another short one. I'm lacking on creative genius, but if I don't force myself to reply, this will die. I mean it. I'm trying, though. **

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Beka hadn't moved since Rosto had left. All she had done was crumple to the floor and cry. She tried to silence the cries as best she could, but she knew that Aniki could hear her. She felt so stupid. Why had she thought she could make him love her, after the way she had always pushed him away? She didn't deserve him. She wasn't good enough. Only Ambry was. She was pretty.

That night, she slept on the floor, steadfastly ignoring Tunstall when he knocked on her door, wondering why she had missed her shift. He had been assured she was still alive by Aniki. That was all he needed to know. He didn't need to come in to tell her he told her so, that that boy was nothing but trouble and he'd only hurt her. Beka knew it, he didn't have to.

Rudely, she was awakened by a cup of cold water to the head. "Wake up. You don't need that useless man." Aniki stood with her hands on her hips and a look of mixed pity and frustration on her face. Her face softened as she pulled Beka to her feet. "You really don't. If he's going to be that dense, you wouldn't want him around that long anyway."

She just looked at the woman and ripped the sheets from her bed. She didn't want to lie in the bed that smelled like him. It would just make her cry again, and she was afraid if she cried again, she would have nothing left of herself. Beka had given everything of herself to her hope that Rosto would forgive her and love her. And now she was empty.

Suddenly, Beka gave a short scream and threw her small bedside table against the wall, leaving a dent and one broken leg. She wasn't strong enough to shatter it, but she was tempted to keep trying. It would be satisfying to see something as broken as she was. "He can't even get mad at me without her coming into his brain. How did I ever think I could compete with that?" She pointed down, towards the room Ambry and Col occupied.

Aniki didn't need clarification, and she hadn't been surprised when the table hit the wall. Honestly, she would have been worried if nothing violent had happened. "Easy." She said, bending to appraise the damage to the table. "You mistook the lump of scummer in his head for a brain." The conclusion was that with a bit of leather wrappings, the table would stand up under a book and a candle. Nothing more, and no more throwing.

Beka growled and started peeling her clothes from her body. They had been slept in twice, and she felt gross. After throwing them to the ground, she looked for new ones. "I never want to see him again. Ever." She yanked her pants on angrily.

"I understand." Aniki sighed as she started putting the table back together.

After Beka was fully dressed again, and Aniki had finished fixing the table, both women sat down to breakfast, Kora coming in, but leaving Fuzzball and Phelan behind. Both women knew that Beka wouldn't be able to handle anything even remotely approaching love. After all three were finished, Kora bit her lip. "Are you serious about never seeing him again?"

Beka looked at her, her eyes wide. Tears threatened, making her throat tight. But the feeling brought her anger roaring back, and the tears vanished. "I _never_ want to see him again." She got up and sat on her bed, now naked of linens. "Never."

Kora continued gnawing on her lip and looking worried. Beka ignored her.


End file.
